


Invite

by TeamBaconBits



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2122710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamBaconBits/pseuds/TeamBaconBits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maximus drops in with a quick question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invite

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet. Helpful critiques welcome. Unbetaed.

Late one orn aboard the Lost Light, Rung is currently in his office trying his hardest to focus Whirl’s much exaggerated story. Hard to do when the recounted events are demonstrated with one of his favorite models.  
“And then he banks hard to the right, dodging a wave of explosive rounds, barely missing getting us all killed! Stupid frag could barely steer a hauler let alone a drop ship!” Whirl recounts the aerial maneuvers with one of Rung’s model of the forth Ark.   
His brows furrow and his hands twitch around his data pad, trying not to focus on the precarious hold the blue Wrecker has on the tiny ship. His eyes widen as Whirl takes his re-enactment further by hopping onto his seat, swinging his arm around quickly bringing the ship up, then down into a rapid nose dive before steering it back upwards and down again in an exaggerated show of the pilot’s lack of flying skills.  
“And then! Crazy bot crash-lands us into the middle of the Decepticon war camp that we were sent to find. Fine with me, saved me the time to hunt them down.” The silver ship skipping in the air, hardly believable that the drop ship actually bounced in such away across the ground without flipping.  
“I’m sure, but tell me Whirl, how has this negatively affected you.” Eyes flicking between the blue mech standing on top the chair across from him and the Ark in his claws.  
“It didn’t, playing with this thing just reminded me of that aft.” Drawls Whirl.  
Jaw slacking, Rung drops back against his seat. Momentarily surprised about the long winded tale that truly demonstrative of Whirl’s lack attention span.   
Jumping off the seat, the volatile mech points the Ark at the orange doctor. “What’s even crazier than crazybot’s landing, is that hunk of scrap drop ship was even able to take us back to the Xanthium! That thing looked like the hull was tied back together with towing cables!” Arms gesturing widely in disbelief at the experience; the Ark goes flying, slipping from the bot’s claws. A crunching sound emitting from the impact to the wall followed by a dull thud, Rung and Whirl stare at each other for a few klicks.  
“Uhhh. Well that happened. Not that accurate demonstration of events, but the point is the same…” Empty claws click slowly as if making sure that the model had actually relocated itself into a scrap heap on the floor. “…probably don’t want to use towing cables to put that thing back together…it’s a goner.” Making his way to the door Whirl says over his shoulder, “Well it’s been fun doc bot, not that much, but it wasn’t bad enough to ditch next session.”   
Doors slide shut behind his patient, Rung sits for another moment before allowing his shoulders to droop. Looking over to the crumpled model seeing that the whole front end now in pieces. Standing and walking over to the mess, at first glance, the likely hood of repairing it is grim. A quick knock and hiss from the doors opening draws his attention, the huge frame of the former warden ducking through brings a small smile to his face.   
Fort Max looks up from under his helm as he clears the door pulling himself from his hunched entrance.  
“Max! Nice to see you!” The unexpected arrival of his former patent pushed the crushed Ark out of his thoughts for now, his attention now on the huge mech before him.  
“I was waiting outside when your previous appointment left; I hope you don’t mind that I came by without letting you know first.” Max says as he dips his helm in apology.  
Shaking his head, “No worries, I’m glad to see you, but you don’t have any more appointments with me, Ultra Magnus cleared you orns ago. Did he not let you know?” Rung inquires.  
“He did, I’m already scheduled to start small shifts in the cargo bay in a couple more to integrate into the crew.”   
“That’s great news Max! I’m happy you came to tell me.” Walking over he places a hand on his arm, his smile turning a little sheepish. “Not to spoil the news, but I am surprised you came by, with my role as a physiatrist, many of my patients never make contact again outside of professional situations.”  
Admitting it aloud is painful, the distaste of baring their inner sparks to a shrink tend to mar their opinion of him.  
Startled out of his thoughts, the dark arm under his hand slides out and around his own, allowing the much bigger hand to grasp his own, completely engulfing his much smaller one. Rung looks up with confusion into Maximus’ optics.  
“Then they don’t understand the gift they had been given in meeting you.”  
“What…?” Rung’s half question hanging in the air, not even sure he comprehends the situation.  
“I didn’t come to just thank you.” The warden shuffles his pedes nervously. “I wanted to ask you to join me for a drink later, when you have finished your duties for the day.”   
“You want to have a drink with me?” Clarifying Max’s question.  
“Yes. Tonight, if you’re not opposed to the idea.” He quickly replies.  
“Ah, a celebratory drink, of course; I’d be delighted.” The orange bot quickly agrees.  
“No.”  
“No?” Rung’s voice mimics back confused.  
“No…as in…a date.” The large mech says hesitantly helm dipping, almost covering his optics completely; embarrassed from the mucked up invitation.   
Date. The word and the concept aren’t foreign to rung. Saying he was surprised would be an understatement. He had never been on the receiving end of such a proposal, always him initiating such things. So this is a most welcome turn of events. His plating quivers.   
“Rung?” Max hesitantly asks, the lithe hand shaking in his own. “It..it’s alright, you can refuse!” He stuttered, worried that he may have completely ruined the tentative friendship built during their sessions together.  
“Now.”  
“I’m sorr…what?”  
“I’m ready, we can go now.” The orange bot speaks with conviction.   
“Now? You mean you want to get the drink now?” The warden asked surprised.  
“Yes! I..I mean, I mean…” Rung clears his vocalizer surprised at his outburst. “I am finished for the day, so yes, I would like to go with you for a drink.” Flustered Rung’s face plates heat up. How silly he felt, practically demanding Fortress Maximus to take him this instant. His free hand coming up and covering his face in embarrassment as Max’s soft chuckles filter through his audio.   
“Now is good for me too.” Lightly squeezing the doctor’s hand.  
Peeking through thin fingers, Rung glances at Max’s smiling face.  
“I apologize, that was very forward of me.” Rung lets his hand fall from his face back to his side, face still warm.  
Shaking his helm, the large bot replies. “I don’t mind, I like it.”   
Stepping backwards toward the door, Max gently pulls Rung. “Ready?”  
Smiling Rung nods at his companion for the evening.  
Allowing himself to be lead, Rung follows behind the large mech back out the door, the large treads missing the frame with practiced ease.   
His fingers brush along the control panel as he walks by, the room darkening leaving only the light from the port holes to softly filter in.   
First time in vorns he leaves his office before finishing his reports, looking forward to spending time with wanted company.


End file.
